The Phantom of the Ballet
by signedheart
Summary: Rose Weasley has always had one dream; to dance on a grand stage. At a young age Rose started her lessons, but gaining her father's grace, she wasn't very good. Just when she is about to give up on her dream she hears a voice, a voice from the depths of her own mind. The voice promises to help her become a star...but at what cost? - Based off the musical The Phantom of the Opera.
1. Chapter 1

"Mummy, I want to be like them!" A young Rose Weasley said to her mother as they watched the ballerinas dance across the screen of their television set. Her eyes stayed glued to the dancers, the pretty girls jumping and twirling through the air.

A groan escaped from the person walking into the cozy living room, "Aw Rosie! Don't you want to be like aunt Ginny and play Quidditch?" He father smiled at her, hopeful since her birth that she would be the next great star player.

"Can't I do both?" The little girl's face was covered in concern.

"Of course you can! And I think dance is a splendid idea," her mother smiled down at her.

"Ballet? Really?" Ron lifted an eyebrow. He never was one for the classical beauties of life.

"Yes! Look how pretty they are." Rose smiled brightly, not letting her father's attitude kill her spirit.

The child's optimism and smiling face wouldn't allow her father to do anything but abide. "Are there classes for that or something?"He asked, turning to his wife.

"Of course there are," Hermione's mind was already spinning with all the possibilities that something of substance like ballet would open up to her daughter. Watching as she attempted to stand and twirl like one of them."One day our little Rose will be up there on stage, just like them," she pointed at the television screen as the ballerinas were taking their bows, flowers being tossed in their direction. 

* * *

"Mother! I'm just not any good at this," Rose cried frustrated. The 13 year old girl had been working on ballet for three years now and she still was not up to par. She loved ballet, loved it more than any other factor in her life…but she just wasn't as good as other girls.

"You'll get there, it just takes hard work."

"I'm too much a Weasley, we are clumsy by nature. Have you ever seen a clumsy ballerina?" She was voicing the thought she often had.

"Don't say that! You'll be fine," Hermione tried to reassure her, but even she didn't believe it. Rose, while being amazing at so many things, just couldn't _get_ ballet. "Do you want to go home?"

"No, go run your errands. I'll be here when you're done," she looked so sad.

Rose watched as Hermione walked out of the main door of the studio she was in. She had tried all of them, any studio she could get into. This one was new, a space where she could work alone instead of with an instructor. Maybe she just couldn't be taught, maybe this was something she just had to learn to do on her own. She heard the heavy class door hit the frame as it closed. With that she leaned against the cold mirrored wall. Closing her eyes she allowed herself to slide down the wall until she was sitting in a crumbled heap on the ground.

She could see all of her dreams of being a dancer slip away. "Maybe I'm not suppose to be a ballerina," she thought out loud. Her voice absorbing into the sound mats that covered the room. Frustrated tears rolling down her face.

"Ballerinas don't cry," a masculine voice sounded.

Rose picked her head up, startled. Looking around she saw no one else in the room.

"Ballerinas must have discipline and poise, they cannot be found crying on the floor."

"Wh-who's there?" She called out as she picked herself up and looking around the room again. No one.

"A friend."

"Show yourself!" Rose called out as her head continued to whip around, trying desperately to find the voice. Every time she heard it it sounded as if he was right beside her.

A low chuckle sounded from nowhere, "I can't be shown. I live inside your mind."

"That's impossible."

"Not as impossible as your dream to become a ballerina if you don't listen to me."

"How did you know…" He head spun again.

"If you spun on your toes as much as you are spinning that beautiful red head of yours, you would be one step closer to achieving that dream."

"How do you know?" Rose questioned again. Her fears were being overridden by her curiosity.

"I live inside your mind my dear, I know everything about you."

And that's when she felt it, like she was a book who had just been opened and having someone turning the pages, gathering all its content. It was a slight fuzzy and full feeling in the right side of her brain. Though foreign, it calmed her instantly. "How can you help me?"

"Just listen to me, allow me to guide you every step of the way."

Rose was conflicted as she continued scanning the room, though she was coming to realize that in fact no one was there.

The voice made an appreciative noise,"hearing" that she had accepting him for what he was. They both new this would be a long and tough journey, but it had its benefits for each of them, one more dark than the other's. With an authoritative voice he spoke to her again.

"First position." 

* * *

Hi lovelies! This was very short because it is just the prologue. The following chapters will be my standard 2,000(ish) words. I love this musical so much and I was listening to the soundtrack when the idea for this story came up. Though based off it, it won't be the exact same..so please keep that in mind. I hope you enjoy! The titles of each chapter will be the song names. :)

All rights of The Phantom of the Opera belong toGaston Leroux, the creator. The musical titles belong to their creator, Andrew Webber. And everything Harry Potter related belongs to J.K. Rowling.


	2. Think of Me

"No, you stupid girl! Point your toe!" I heard the voice again tell me for the millionth time. _That_ voice. No one else could hear it, believe me. I have tried countless times to get someone, anyone to hear that voice. It always fails. I am convinced it is a voice that lives inside my own head. An imaginary friend that I hadn't welcomed.

He cared for me, it was obvious. But sometimes he got angry, he hated repeating himself. But he never left me on bad terms, wouldn't allow me a thought to myself until I had forgiven him or he me.

"Okay, okay," I replied. I spoke out loud to him a lot. There was no reason for it, he knew all my thoughts. I did as he asked and smiled at myself as I caught my reflection in the dusty mirror. My Arabesque did look better. As always his instructions helped. He was always right.

"Do you see now, Rose?" He seemed pleased with my performance.

"Yes, you were right..as always."

"I know, I heard you think that already."

"Of course." I smiled stupidly at my need to speak to him.

"Rose! Rose!" I heard the familiar voice of my best friend and flatmate calling for me. Just as she always does when I have been up in this attic for too long. I watched as I saw her brunette head pop up as she walked up the rickety stairs.

"Until tomorrow then. Goodbye Rose," he always sounded sad and possibly a little lost when he left me. Even worse when he left me in the company of others. He was but a ghost, maybe he hated being reminded of what it was like to live and have relations with real people.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." I felt my head suddenly feel lighter and I knew the voice was gone. My thoughts were my own, safe once again. I was use to having him there. The only time that I knew I wouldn't hear from him was when I was at Hogwarts. He hated that I went away for school, but told me repeatedly that he couldn't follow me there. It was the only time I was alone. I dedicated most of my free time to ballet, always hoping to impress him when I returned home.

I saw the smile playing on Emmi's face. "You're going to die of mold poisoning up here."

"A death that seems fitting." I unexpectedly voiced that thought.

"Rose!"

"A performer's perfect death would be to die doing what they love," I said in a daydreamer's voice.

"That's incredibly morbid."

I simply shrugged, maybe it was. If I were to die, I could be someone else's Phantom. I could help some other little girl with big dreams of being a ballerina. And maybe, just maybe she would have the courage to grace the stages with her presence. So unlike me she would be, she would be brilliant.

I saw Emmi giving me a strange look. "That's it, you little creep. I'm taking you out to socialize!"

"I'm not suicidal, I swear!" I laughed, "just loathing in some unearned self pity."

"You know you could do it if you wanted to."

"Do what?"

"Preform."

"I do preform."

She laughed loudly at me, "dancing alone in an attic is not performing."

What she didn't know is that I wasn't alone. All those hours spent in the attic were in another's company, even if he wasn't physically present. I spent the time talking to him, learning from him as I had the last eight years of my life. I had been performing for him for that long, only him. That's all that he would allow. He was possessive, scarily so at times. No one but him had seen me dance other than my parents. I was sure he was only allowing that since they were the ones who brought me to and from the studio. They hadn't seen me dance in years. "A wasted talent" I heard my mother call it once when she thought I was out of earshot. But it wasn't wasted, I was always performing for someone.

I was never alone for I had the Phantom.

"Are you really dragging me out?" My introverted self was weeping.

"Yes! Now get downstairs and put something sexy on, you're 21, not 12," she looked me up and down. "Time to put this child's gear up for a while." She always picked on me for my tights, hating the color pink with a passion.

I begrudgingly followed her down the stairs, each one creaking in protest against our weight. When I was in the hallway I finally got a lot outside. It was pitch-black, had I really been up there that long? The windowless attic often had me thinking it was far earlier than it was, having me stay later than intended. "What time is it?"

"It's nine, so you have an hour to get ready and then we're leaving."

"Where are you taking me this time?" I sighed. I hated the nightlife scene. I was an early riser, the morning was when I found myself most productive.

"You'll see when we get there," she giggled as she unlocked the door to our flat.

I glared at her as I followed her in, "I'm not going to have fun am I?"

"You'll have lots of fun," she winked at me. Oh no, what was she up to?

I just rolled my eyes as I went into my room to try and find something suitable to wear. It seemed every Christmas Emmi would buy me something that she would make me promise to wear out. I grabbed a black dress. Black was easy to work with right? I put it on and decided it didn't look that bad. It was simple black but it had three skinny cut outs between my chest and bellybutton. These cut outs were covered in black mesh, as well as the cut out that showed a little too much of my cleavage. But hell, when in Rome…

I took my hair down and let it fall in long waves down my back, then applied my makeup. I was ready long before Emmi was, but finally we left. The quicker we left, the faster we could get back.

The club itself was loud and blinding with its many flashing lights of all colors. Not my thing at all.

Emmi tried staying with me, but I could tell she just wanted to go out and have fun. "Go on, I'll be fine."

"You sure?" She smiled and I knew I was doing the right thing.

"Yes, go have fun!"

"You too!" She called as she ran off to the dance floor. I watched her instantly making new friends for the night.

I made my way to the bar, I wasn't a big drinker but I definitely needed something to help drown out this music. This was a whole different world of sounds than I was use to.

"Hello."

I jumped at the sound of the voice, at first thinking it was the Phantom. But no, that wasn't his voice. This one was familiar for a whole different reason…but what was that reason?

Unfortunately my jumping back caused him to spill the drink he was holding down the front of him.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" Though my ballerina balance has improved, regular old Rose's clumsiness was still very much around. I instantly grabbed dozens of napkins and started to wipe up the spill drink that was covering his grey shirt.

I heard him chuckle as he shifted, grabbing the hand that was attempting to sop up the mess I made. "Rose," the silky voice spoke so closely to my ear.

I looked up, I had never even looked at his face until just now, "Scorpius?" My eyes surely widened, showing the surprise that I felt.

I saw the amused smile that he wore. "I saw you come in and I thought I would come say hello, didn't mean to give you such a scare."

I just stared at him before snapping myself out of it. "I just can't believe it's _you_!" His mere presence brought on a rush of strong memories, some happy and some horrifically painful.

"It's been some time, hasn't it? How have you been?" He smiled at me as he brought a few new napkins to clean off the outside of his jacket.

"Great!" I smiled at him, knowing I was in too deep as it was as I watched him now just standing in dark denim jeans and a tight fitting shirt.

Part of the reason I had worked so hard at ballet during my time at Hogwarts was so Phantom would never question how I had spent my time. I had learned to shut down parts of my memories when he would enter my brain. In those locked away memories lay Scorpius Malfoy.

"That's wonderful." I saw his eyes traveling down my body. He caught himself and pulled them back up to my own eyes before smirking. "You look good."

"So do you," and I meant it. He was Hogwart's Slytherin Prince - a role that had been passed down to him from his father, Draco Malfoy - but now he had filled out in all the right areas. He had always been my distraction, my getaway from the pressures of being perfect for Phantom.

He scooted closer to me, placing his arm close to my own. I could feel the electricity between us, just as I always had. "So tell me Rose," his fingers found their way to trace intricate patterns on the delicate pulse point of my wrist. The familiar buzz was there, a stimulant swimming through my veins. "why haven't I seen you on a stage yet?"

I froze. Why do I say to him? That I was too afraid to take a chance to do something I promised him I'd do, to do the thing that I left him to do? "I'm…I'm working on it," I answered somewhat truthfully.

"You're always working on it," he sighed. I knew he was thinking about all those night I had left him in the middle of the night to practice.

"One day…"

"Hopefully soon. The theater has come under new management and my family had to go put their name on it." He rolled his eyes. Astoria, his mother, was always trying to seem more cultured by buying out places that brought culture to the world. She still was as unintelligent and passive as the doormat to this pub.

"What happened to the old owner?" Simple curiosity.

"He's still there, but he wanted to take a step back and allow others to take the reigns, and you know how my mother is…"

I chuckled, of course Astoria had been the first one to bite. Hell she's the one who probably pushed the poor guy to take that step back.

"This is me inviting you to use the theater whenever you want," he smiled brightly at me.

I visibly swooned, he always just got to me. "Maybe I'll have to take you up on that offer." What was I saying?

"I hope you do that." He just stared at me for a while. I watched as he took a sip from his glass, Gin no doubt if he had the same taste as he did in school. And for some reason I was hoping very much that he did...

"So I see you two found each other," Emmi came walking up to us with a smug grin on her face.

That's when it hit me, she brought me here for a reason, "You knew he was going to be here?"

She shook her head as she laughed at me, "Sweetheart, he owns the place."

My head snapped around to look at him. "You do?"

He smirked at me before shrugging.

"I just thought you could use to have some interaction, you always had the best time with him." Emmi was one of the few who knew about what we had in Hogwarts. Being the daughter and son of sworn enemies, it would have been hell if we had tried to date publicly. People would have never guessed it, in public we were constantly fighting and acting very much like our parents. They didn't know what happened behind closed doors…where the fighting stopped and something a lot more fun started.

He challenged me every day and I think that's why I was drawn to him.

"Dance with me?" He stared me dead in the eyes. A request that he had asked before.

"HAH!" Emmi laughed loudly, "Miss twinkle toes refuses to dance in front of anyone."

Phantom only ever said I couldn't dance ballet for others, but I still couldn't dance. I was too clumsy and had no rhythm. Ballet was the only thing I could do and that was after having years of a voice in my head telling me exactly what to do

"I can't dance!"

"Says that ballerina." Emmi rolled her eyes before turning to Scorpius, "Good luck."

I watched her walk away and insert herself into the crowd. She was everything I wasn't in this scene, loving to be the captor of everyone's attention.

I heard Scorpius clear his throat and I turned to look at him. "It seems like it was so long ago…"

"I know…"

"I think of you all the time." He stared beyond me, like he didn't want to relay this information at all.

I looked away as well, "me too…"

"Dance with me." It wasn't a question this time.

"I can't…"

He smiled at me, a slow sad smile, "You can."

I looked out across the dance floor to see the masses of sweaty, moving bodies. "Not like this…"

He followed my gaze out before nodding, "Maybe not…but one day I will see you dance. You must love it something wicked."

"I'd have to to let it come between us." I said it before I could catch myself.

"Yes…" He mumbled as he moved closer to me, placing a swift kiss on my upper jaw, under my ear. Sensitive flesh that only he knew about.

"One day, I promise."

"Soon?" He whispered.

"Soon." 

* * *

-Author's Note-  
You know the drill, I don't own _The Phantom of the Opera_, as it says in the summary.  
The titles of this story are all songs from the soundtrack.  
I based Emmi's name off of Emmy Rossum who played Christine (who Rose is based off of for those of you who have never seen the musical). Hope you're loving it as much as I am writing it.


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